


Michael J. Caboose vs. Project Freelancer

by cunzy4



Series: Caboose's Adventures in Time and Space [3]
Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: And possibly fixes everything that ever went wrong, Caboose being Caboose, Caboose meets the Freelancers, Gen, The Caboose time travel fic you never knew you needed in your life, while simultaneously ruining everything
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-31
Updated: 2020-04-27
Packaged: 2021-02-27 16:07:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 8,068
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22049857
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cunzy4/pseuds/cunzy4
Summary: Through unknown means, Caboose is transported back in time to the MOI during the prime of Project Freelancer. Will the Freelancers be able to handle their unexpected guest? Will Carolina retain her sanity in the face of so many dumbasses? Will the Director ever stop being an asshole?Most importantly, can Caboose save Alpha before it's too late?
Relationships: Michael J. Caboose & Agent Washington, Michael J. Caboose & Everyone, Michael J. Caboose & Leonard L. Church
Series: Caboose's Adventures in Time and Space [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/779016
Comments: 113
Kudos: 230





	1. The Stowaway

**Author's Note:**

> Caboose going back in time? It's more likely than you'd think!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Caboose is lost as usual.

Caboose’s boots echoed faintly on the metal floors as he wandered aimlessly through the unfamiliar hallways. Freckles buzzed in his hands as it scanned the surroundings, always on guard for any potential dangers.

He’d been lost in this ship for half an hour now. The last thing he remembered was playing hide-and-seek with his friends, and Caboose was really good at hiding because they hadn’t found him after seven hours. After that, there was a lot of light, and noise, and shouting, and the next thing he knew, he was lying facedown on the floor of a neat spaceship. He wasn’t too bothered, considering “lost” was his usual state, but he was pretty sure he’d never been here before. Also, his friends were nowhere to be found.

Caboose was fine with being lost, but he couldn’t handle being lonely. Therefore, he was more relieved than anything when red lights and alarms started blaring and strangers in colored armor surrounded him.

After all, strangers are nothing but friends you haven’t met yet.

“Hello, new friends!” he said cheerfully, lowering Freckles to wave at the soldiers.

“You’re under arrest,” one of them said.

“Okay,” Caboose agreed.

If that was what his new friends wanted, he was fine with that. Besides, what are friends for?

* * *

“Who are you?” the soldier across the table asked him in a soft, friendly voice.

“I’m me,” Caboose replied.

“Yes, but who is “me?” the man pressed.

“I don’t know. You won’t tell me your name.”

The soldier didn’t appear perturbed. “We’re not talking about me, we’re talking about you.”

“Are we talking about which of us is which? We’re both wearing blue. I’ve kind of lost track,” Caboose admitted.

“I’m sure we’re talking about you,” the man said after the briefest of pauses. “I just want to know your name.”

“Ooohhh, why didn’t you say so earlier?” Caboose rolled his eyes. “You are not making yourself very clear, you know.”

To his credit, the other blue soldier didn’t lunge across the table and strangle Caboose where he sat. “I’m sorry you’re having trouble understanding me,” he said in the same calm tone. “Why don’t you just tell me your name?”

“My name is Captain Michael J. Caboose,” he announced, pleased that he still remembered the time that Church had sat him down and spent several hours explaining until Caboose understood that he was not to introduce himself as “Church’s best friend,” or “O’Malley,” or add, “I hate babies” at the end.

“It’s nice to meet you, Captain Caboose.” Caboose couldn’t tell if his new friend was smiling under his helmet, but he assumed he was. “I’d shake your hand, but…”

Caboose glanced down at his hands, which were cuffed to the table. “But what?”

“Never mind. I’m Agent Florida, but I’m not big on formality. Why don’t you just call me Flowers instead?”

Caboose looked up, perplexed at the way the name rang a bell. “Flowers?”

“Yes. Is something wrong?” Flowers tilted his helmet.

After considering for a full minute, Caboose perked up. “That’s a pretty name,” he declared.

“Well, thank you very much,” Flowers chuckled. “That’s very nice of you to say, Captain Caboose. Would you mind telling me what you’re a captain of? We don’t have any Captain Cabooses in the UNSC.”

“Good because that would be weird if there were another Caboose like me,” Caboose muttered. “We would have to wear nametags, or I would have to start calling myself Caboose Two, which would be confusing for both of us-“

“I need you to focus, Caboose,” Flowers interrupted. Caboose grinned; he was in familiar territory now. That was the catchphrase that Church and Wash told him all the time, and if this Flowers person knew the magic words, then he must be almost as nice as Church and almost as smart as Wash.

“Where did you get your rank?” Flowers reiterated.

“Uhhh…” Caboose tried his best to organize his thoughts. A lot of things had happened on Chorus that he hadn’t really been able to follow, and no one had taken the six hours or so that would be required to help Caboose understand.

“Well… my friends and I were all going home after…something I don’t remember, but it was probably super cool. But our space airplane crashed on some other planet, which was definitely not my fault, probably, and we were all shipwrecked together like pirates, but only one of us is an actual pirate captain. And then I found Freckles-“ he gestured to the gun in the corner of the room- “and he was my BEST FRIEND but he was a lot bigger back then. And then a lot of people visited our campsite, and they were trying to help us but some of them were also shooting at us, and we all got separated and I lost _all_ of my best friends-“ he paused- “I didn’t like that part very much. But we had fun together with our army, even stupid Tucker, and they made us all captains and we had our own super-cool teams, but our friends were friends with the other army, I think, and then both armies decided to be friends together and be one army, which is GREAT because everyone should always be friends with each other!”

Caboose beamed, pleased that he had managed to explain the story so coherently. Flowers just stared at him for the longest time.

“Is this guy for real?” a voice muttered from the hallway outside. Flowers’ head turned sharply and the voice fell silent.

“Do you know how you ended up on our ship?” Flowers asked as he turned back to Caboose.

“Uhh… what ship am I on?”

“This ship is the _Mother of Invention,”_ Flowers said with a hint of pride. “The flagship of Project Freelancer.”

Caboose gasped. “Freelancer?” he repeated. “I have heard of those people! Some of them are my friends and some of them are not my friends but those people are gone now.”

“Gone? Gone where?” Flowers had a sharp edge of suspicion in his voice now.

“Uhh…” Caboose, despite his general detachment from reality, felt something resembling an instinct for self-preservation rise up inside him. His second-bestest-friend Agent Washington didn’t like the other Freelancers. He had told Caboose that Freelancers were bad guys, except for himself and Carolina (and Caboose wasn’t too sure about Carolina sometimes). He suppressed his natural urge to spill his guts with complete honesty and wholehearted trust for whomever he was talking to at any given time, and prepared himself to come up with a believable lie.

“Somewhere,” he said as convincingly as he could.

Silence fell again. It seemed as though Flowers could read the guilt written all over Caboose’s helmet, but he didn’t challenge him on the lie.

“Our security footage doesn’t show you boarding the ship at any time,” Flowers changed the subject. “It’s like you just… appeared onboard out of nowhere.”

“Yeaaah… that’s pretty much what happened,” Caboose agreed.

“So you don’t know how you got here?” Flowers asked.

“No, but… I’m not really sure how I get anywhere, usually.”

“Well, Caboose,” Flowers said gently. “I think it’s time we took you over to our hospital, and you can meet some nice doctors.”

“Great! I know a lot of doctors already. They are nice but some of them are also scary.”

“I’m sure they are.” Flowers uncuffed him from the table, holding his elbow to guide him out of the room.

“Wait!” Caboose cried. “What about Freckles?”

He moved to go back from his gun, but Flowers blocked his way.

“Don’t you worry,” he reassured Caboose. “Freckles will be right here when you get back. We’ll take good care of him, but he can’t come with you right now.”

“…Okay,” Caboose said dejectedly, and allowed Flowers to lead him out of the room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been writing this one for a while and I'm not quite ready to show it to the world, but I wanted to publish something before 2020 so here it is! I have the fic about halfway done, but will gladly accept suggestions for Caboose shenanigans.


	2. Out of Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Flowers is smart and slightly unnerving. Wash is innocent and adorable. Caboose is like a steamroller and a teddy bear had a baby and let it loose upon the world.

The hospital was bright, and clean, and busy. Caboose sat on the edge of one of the beds, armor stacked neatly next to him, while a friendly nurse and a cranky nurse poked and prodded him.

“There are some anomalies in his brain scan,” the friendly nurse said to the cranky nurse. “He appears to have suffered repeated brain trauma.”

“That would explain a lot,” the cranky nurse muttered.

“It would?” Caboose asked blankly.

“Not to you, kiddo,” the friendly nurse said gently.

“Yeaahh… my brain doesn’t usually explain things to me,” Caboose agreed.

“Well, he’s not a threat, that’s for sure,” the cranky nurse said to Flowers. “However he got aboard, there’s no way he could be a spy or an assassin. Frankly, he’s almost too impaired to be walking and talking.”

Just then, the door slid open and two Freelancers in armor staggered through. A very familiar black-and-yellow soldier was supporting a purple one.

“Little help here?” the black soldier grunted. “I think North has a concussion. We were training, and a Warthog flipped over, and-”

“Wash!” Caboose was hurtling across the room before anyone in the room could react, tackling the unaware Freelancer and knocking him away from North. In the background, people were shouting and rushing around, but Caboose was squeezing Wash so hard his armor creaked, bouncing on his toes with joy.

“Uh… hi?” Wash said, completely bewildered.

“Agent Washingtub!” Caboose shouted. “It is so good to see you! I was very confused because you weren’t here but now you are here and everything is better!”

“Hey! What?” Wash tried to free himself from Caboose’s bear hug, but even out of armor, Caboose was more than a match for the shorter Freelancer.

It took the combined strength of Flowers and the two nurses to pry Caboose away from Wash. Flowers kept a restraining grip on Caboose’s arms while the two nurses helped North, who had been thrown to the ground, into a chair.

“I’m sorry, who are you?” Wash’s hands were raised protectively, just in case this crazy man decided to charge him again.

Caboose’s mouth dropped open. “Wash, that is not a very nice thing to say,” he scoffed. “I know I am not wearing my face-helmet, but that does not make me not your best friend!” He shouted the last words.

“I’m your what?” Wash looked to Flowers helplessly. “Butch, what’s going on here?”

Flowers didn’t respond, staring at Caboose with a quizzical tilt to his helmet. “I-”

“Sir,” the medic interrupted, tapping Flowers’ shoulder. “This helmet…” he held up Caboose’s helmet. “Its internal clock is over fifteen  _ years _ out of sync.”

Flowers nodded slowly. “Well, thank you very much for telling me that,” he said sincerely. “I think I’m getting a pretty good idea of what’s going on here now.”

Wash was still eyeing Caboose like he was a wild animal. “Uh, that makes one of us.”

“I’m sorry to impose, Wash, but would you mind looking after Caboose for a few minutes while I report this to our superiors?” Flowers asked. “He seems to like you.”

“Wait, what?” Wash protested, but Flowers had already dashed out of the room.

“Yay!” Caboose cheered. “Now we can have sleepovers and paint our nails and braid each other’s hair and-”

Wash just groaned.

* * *

“Yay! I win again!” Caboose congratulated himself.

“No, Caboose, you lost,” Wash said tiredly.

“But I went down the slide, which is the best part and means I win!”

“Caboose, you  _ don’t  _ want to hit the slides. You want to climb the ladders.”

Caboose scoffed. “Who would want to climb a dumb ladder? Agent Washingtub, you do not seem to understand the rules of this game.”

Wash was five seconds away from flipping the board in frustration when the door burst open and Agent Carolina stormed into the room.

“Washington!” she barked. “Is there a life-threatening reason you’re ten minutes late to training, or is this what it looks like and you’re just sitting around playing board games with- wait, who the hell are you?”

“Carolina, I-“ Wash stammered, but Caboose leaped to his feet first.

“Agent Caribou!” he shouted with delight and moved to hug her, but stopped. “Wait no you are scary and don’t like hugs.”

“I don’t,” she said flatly. “Who are you?”

“Boss, this is, uh, Caboose,” Wash said awkwardly. “I think he’s a stowaway or something? I mean, he seems harmless and all.” His voice dropped to a whisper. “I don’t think he’s… all there? Flowers is having me babysit while they decide what to do with him.”

“A stowaway? she said incredulously. “But we’re in deep space. How could someone have snuck on board?”

Wash shrugged, but the door opening again cut off his reply. A tall figure in white armor entered the room behind Carolina.

“AAAHH!” Caboose shouted, startling everyone. “Agent Washingtub! It’s the Metal- Mental- Dental- scary guy!”

“What?” Wash squeaked, trying to free himself from Caboose’s sudden death grip around his neck. “Caboose, that’s Maine! He’s my friend!”

Caboose released Wash, abruptly calm again. “Ohh, is he our friend now? That’s good because everyone should be friends with each other!”

Maine gave a confused grunt. Wash just shrugged helplessly again.

“I don't have time for this nonsense,” Carolina declared. “Wash, you’re still late for training. Bring your new friend, we’ll have a two-on-two and see if he’s any good.”

Caboose cheered and followed Carolina as she stalked out of the room.


	3. Two on Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The rookie and the brain dead face off against the two toughest badasses. Will this end well? No one knows. Will this be hilarious? Absolutely.

Carolina and Maine stood on one side of the training floor. Wash and Caboose stood on the other.

Wash tapped Caboose on the shoulder. Caboose turned around to face their opponents.

“Ready?” York called from the observation deck where he was serving as referee. “Three, two, one, _go!”_

Washington sprang forward like he had been launched out of a cannon. Carolina sprinted to meet him, ducking at the last second and sweeping Wash’s feet out from under him.

“Uh, Wash, are we starting yet?” Caboose asked as Maine charged towards him. The burly Freelancer rammed into Caboose with all the force of his weight and momentum, tackling the blue soldier like a speeding train.

Caboose didn’t move an inch.

Maine grunted as he bounced off of Caboose, stumbling before regaining his footing. Caboose tilted his head slightly, watching Maine curiously rather than pressing his advantage.

“Holy shit,” York muttered in awe.

Meanwhile, Carolina and Wash were grappling on the floor. Carolina hooked a knee around Wash and flipped him onto his back, kneeling on top of him and throwing a full-strength punch at his visor that Wash barely managed to catch. He kicked against the ground, throwing Carolina over his head and regaining his feet in one move.

His first charge having failed, Maine circled Caboose more cautiously. Caboose continued to do nothing but stand and watch. Suddenly pouncing forward, Maine wrapped his arms around Caboose in a brutal hold that would leave any soldier immobilized, regardless of strength.

Instead, his arms closed on empty air.

“Oh, are we playing tag?” Caboose asked delightedly. Maine whirled to face his opponent, only to be shoved to the ground with intense but clumsy force. “I love tag! You are it now!”

Distracted by Caboose’s antics, Wash only just managed to twist and absorb a blow that would have dislocated his shoulder. As it was, he knew he would be feeling the bruises for a week. Carolina’s punches _hurt._ As the rookie of the team, he could hardly be expected to take out the heavy hitters like her or Maine in a fair fight, but neither would they go easy on him.

As the Director often said, “ _your enemies will not hold back.”_

In a flash, Carolina twisted Wash’s arm behind his back and forced him to his knees with a kick. 

“Caboose! Help me!” Wash shrieked, his voice strained.

“Ah- I don’t know Wash, it seems like she’s already helping.” Wash was thrashing in Carolina’s hold, struggling to free his arm. Maine was slowly climbing to his feet, obviously disoriented.

“Caboose!” Wash cried again. “Dogpile on Carolina!”

Instantly, Wash’s arm was freed as Caboose tackled Carolina enthusiastically, sending her crashing to the ground underneath a mountain of blue armor.

Which left Wash facing down an angry Agent Maine, alone and teammate-less.

Carolina struggled fruitlessly to free herself from beneath Caboose’s bulk as Wash sprinted around the perimeter of the room, Maine in hot pursuit. York howled with laughter at the spectacle.

Carolina managed to roll Caboose off of her and sprang back to her feet, hitting Caboose with a series of punches and kicks that would have devastated any opponent. Caboose hardly seemed to notice.

“Can we dogpile on Wash now?” he said excitedly.

“Is this guy even human?” York muttered from the sidelines.

“Stop!” a commanding voice rang out from the observation deck. The combatants froze, the three agents looking upward while Caboose looked around in confusion.

“Agent Washington, would you please bring Caboose to the briefing room,” the voice ordered in a heavy Southern drawl. “The rest of you, dismissed.”

“That was fun!” Caboose bounced happily while Wash led him out the door. “Can we do it again?”

“Maybe later, Caboose. Right now, the Director wants to talk to you.”

“Ohh, is that the pirate guy who was talking? I thought I was just hearing voices again.”

Wash just sighed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Updates will slow down once I burn through the chapters I've already written, but it will go faster if you tell me what you want to see!
> 
> Edit: Forgot to answer some questions.  
> -Caboose comes from a point in the timeline sometime around s15 or slightly before, while the gang is in retirement.   
> -Alpha Church is still whole (more on that next chapter) and is hoping to stay that way.  
> -If/when Caboose returns to his own time, it will be on the same day he left.


	4. Your Best Friend

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Caboose is reunited with a long-lost friend.

“How did you arrive here from the future?” the Counselor asked in his low, soothing voice.

“I didn’t come here from the future, I came here from Blue Base!” Caboose said, with the air of someone explaining something obvious.

The Director and the Counselor exchanged glances. Florida and Wash, who sat on either side of Caboose, said nothing.

“Do you know what year it is?” the Counselor tried.

“Uhh…” Caboose frowned. “Is this a trick question?”

“He’s practically brain dead,” Florida reminded them helpfully. “He probably doesn’t have the slightest clue how he came to be here.”

The Counselor ignored him. “This Blue Base,” he said to Caboose. “Were there other simulation troopers there?”

“Wash was there! And stupid Tucker, and those Red guys, and my all time most important best friend Church!”

Caboose grinned obliviously into the ensuing shocked silence.

Agent Washington, Agent Florida, will you leave the room for a moment, please?” the Director asked, his voice deceptively calm.

“Sure thing, sir!” Florida said cheerfully. “We’ll be right outside if you need us.” 

“How do you know that name?” the Director said harshly the instant the door closed behind Florida and Wash.

“Who? My all time best friend Church? Oh, we go way back. All the way back to the time I accidentally killed him with a tank, but it was definitely not my fault and we were still friends after.”

“Are you talking about the Alpha AI?” the Counselor cut in, much more calmly than the Director.

Caboose tilted his head. “Yeeaaah, probably. Some people called him some different names, but those were not always easy for everyone to remember so we mostly called him Church.”

“And you say he died?”

“Ah- well, he sort of got shot by a tank, but he came right back as a ghost and then a gay robot and then died again and came back as a floating computer guy and then died again, and now we’re waiting for him to come back again. Church always comes back,” Caboose informed them with supreme confidence.

“Where did you meet… Church?” the Counselor inquired.

“At Blue Base!”

“Where was this Blue Base?”

“Next to Red Base.”

If either the Director or the Counselor were enraged by this roundabout interrogation, they didn’t show it outwardly. They didn’t share the same eerily calm demeanor as Agent Florida, but rather the forced composure of ones who spent day after day dealing with complete imbeciles.

“Caboose. Try to think. At some point in the future, does the Alpha AI leave Freelancer custody?” the Counselor pressured.

“Custody? Did the Freelancers get divorced?”

“The Freelancers’ AI program is highly classified information. How do you know about it?” the Counselor said.

“Church told me!”

“If Flowers couldn’t get a coherent answer out of him, no one can,” The Director muttered to the Counselor. “Fortunately, we have another option. Alpha?”

A white hologram flickered to life on the glowing table. “Way ahead of you.”

“Church!” Caboose shouted delightedly, lunging forward to try to hug the insubstantial figure. “I knew you would not be dead forever! I missed you so much! I have so much to tell you! Now we can have sleepovers and braid each other’s- hggkrk-”

He cut off as Alpha’s hologram moved into Caboose’s helmet and vanished. Caboose went limp in his seat, visor staring blankly at the floor.

“Wow, it’s empty in here,” Church’s voice issued from the helmet speakers. “Seems like someone threw a party and left the place trashed.”

“What do his memories say?” the Counselor inquired.

There was a few seconds of silence, along with the sound effect of rustling papers. “Hmm. Huh. Weird. Hnn. Interesting... Whoa. Cool. Wha-?”

“Alpha,” the Director said sternly.

“Yeah, yeah, I got it. Man, this guy’s brain is like living in a kaleidoscope. Everything’s here, but it’s all in bits and pieces.”

“Does he know any classified intel?”

“It’s hard to say. I mean, I’m definitely in here. At least, I think it’s me. Although somehow I doubt my future self ever actually went on a picnic with him and a bunch of unicorns. There’s stuff about… other A.I.’s? Are there more like me?”

“No,” the Director said quickly, sharing a glance with the Counselor. “What else?”

“Uh, there’s a bunch of memories of Washington and Carolina, and some pirate guys? He recognizes most of the Freelancers, but his brain’s so distorted it’s hard to tell what’s real and what’s a weird hallucination. What dumpster did you find this guy in?”

“He appeared onboard with no clue how he arrived,” the Counselor said. “All signs indicate he traveled here from over a decade in the future.”

“That explains a lot. Looks like he’s one of our sim troopers who somehow ended up with high-level friends and a shit ton of brain damage. All in all? I don’t think he’s a danger to us, but we definitely can’t let him leave. For his own sake as much as ours.”

“Can he tell us anything about the future?” the Director asked.

“Honestly? I’m sure he knows stuff, but it’s impossible to tell what’s a real event and what Caboose  _ thinks  _ is real. Probably won’t be a good idea to take his word about anything that goes down in the future.”

“Understood,” the Director said. “We’ll make a place for him onboard and keep him under watch until we figure out how to make him useful.”

“Or send him back to his own time,” the Counselor added.

“Yeah yeah. Can I get out of this guy now? I can feel my sanity slipping away as we speak.”

The Director nodded. “You’re dismissed, Alpha.”

Alpha’s hologram briefly reappeared, then vanished. Caboose’s head slumped forward, then snapped back up to attention.

“-Hair and make friendship bracelets and go on bike rides and-”

“Washington, Florida, can you come back in here?” The Director spoke over Caboose’s chatter. The door  _ whooshed  _ open again.

The Director motioned for the two agents to escort the still-talking Caboose out of the room. “He’ll need a room prepared for him, and for the love of God, don’t let him be alone at any time.”

“Yaay!” Caboose cheered as they led him away. “I love not being alone!”

“Are you feeling alright, Director?” the Counselor asked, noticing the way the elder Church pinched the bridge of his nose.

“I’m fine, Counselor,” the Director sighed. “Just a headache.”

“Caboose seems to have that effect on people,” the Counselor noted wryly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If there's a specific Freelancer/Caboose interaction you want to see, just say the word and I'll put it in!


	5. Misadventures in Babysitting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Caboose is handed off between the Freelancers in a game of Hot Potato, in which everyone tries to pass off the potato before they lose their sanity.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AHAHAHAHAHAhahahahhahaha.. don't judge me.

Caboose and Wash sat at a table in the ship’s cafeteria. Wash had a tray full of sandwiches and fruits, while Caboose’s tray held nothing but mashed potatoes. York and North, who had recently been freed from the hospital, sat across from them.

“Caboose,” Wash said tiredly. “Don’t play with your food.”

Sure enough, Caboose had turned his mashed potatoes into a tower and was now scooping out windows and building ramparts with his spoon. He ignored Wash and kept working, humming a happy tune.

_ “Caboose,”  _ Wash repeated. “Eat your dinner. And  _ please  _ stop trying to feed your gun.”

Without pausing either his song or his castle building, Caboose stuck his tongue out at Wash. Freckles, which had been examined by the Freelancers’ scientists and declared safe for Caboose to carry around, beeped angrily at Wash from where it sat against the wall. A blob of mashed potatoes slowly made its way down the stock of the gun.

“I don’t know,” York smirked. “I think Freckles is hungry.”

“Please don’t encourage him,” Wash sighed.

Caboose pouted. “But you let me feed him tacos and motor oil back before he exploded and turned into a gun!”

“That was in the future, Caboose. It hasn’t happened yet for me.” Wash tried to explain this with absolutely no hope that it would get through to Caboose, just as he had the past seven times Caboose had mentioned a future event as though Wash would understand.

“Never mind. Caboose, if you finish your potatoes we can have ice cream.”

Caboose cheered and the potatoes vanished in an instant.

* * *

“Am I there in the future?” York interrogated Caboose. “Is Carolina?”

Caboose brightened. “Yes! Carolina is one of my all time best friends! Even if she is maybe a Red and not a Blue, but I think she is a Blue because Blue team is the best.”

“Am I there?” York repeated.

“Ah- I don’t know, sometimes it is hard to remember everyone, especially when all the face-helmets look alike and some of the voices sound like some other voices. Also I am maybe a teensy bit colorblind so I can’t tell if you are a Red or a Blue because you look brown.”

“I am brown,” York said flatly.

Caboose brightened. “I knew I was right about colors! I get some of them mixed up but not all of them. It makes crayon time confusing.”

York growled under his breath, feeling the acute frustration of anyone attempting to get information from Caboose.

“Is the war over?” York asked, changing tack. “Did we win?”

“What war? The Blue vs. Red one? Because I think we won, except the Reds think they won, and we don’t fight anymore except with words.”

“No, the  _ real  _ war with the aliens, not that sim trooper bullshit,” York said impatiently. “All that stuff was made up to get you guys to fight each other.”

Caboose was silent for a long moment.

“Yeah- I don’t know what you mean by that,” he finally said. “Also I don’t know any aliens except that my friend Tucker gave birth to an alien baby and I am his fairy godfather.”

York nodded in understanding. “Oh, scenario three,” he said. “That one’s a classic.”

“Yeaaah,” Caboose agreed amiably. “What?”

“Never mind. What’s it like in the future?”

“It is very shiny. Except for the things that are not shiny.” Caboose frowned. “Stupid not-shiny things.”

“Everything is chrome in the future,” York mumbled.

“What?”

“Nothing. So do Carolina and I end up together?”

“Together like bestest friends?”

“Yeah, but a bit more than that,” York egged him on. “Are we a couple?”

“A couple of super-bestest-friends?”

“No! Do we end up-” he groaned in frustration. “Never mind. You’re not going to answer me, are you?”

“What?”

“Forget it. Just… forget it.”

“Forget what?” 

* * *

North and Caboose sat in the rec room, papers and crayons spread out across the table. Somehow, Caboose had produced a 64-pack from inside his armor. 

North smiled down at his drawing. “South and I used to draw pictures like this,” he said. “She’s my sister, you know.”

“I have seventeen sisters,” Caboose responded, halfway through a hyper-realistic drawing of Freckles in his old Mantis form. “And also Carolina because we adopted her.”

North looked up, surprised. “I never pictured Carolina as the family sort,” he commented. “And who’s ‘we’?”

“Ah- my friends, which is mostly Blue Team and also Red Team and Wash who is a Blue and Locus who is maybe a Red and Freckles and sometimes other people.”

“What about the rest of us? Are any other Freelancers on your team?”

Caboose tilted his head, forcing the gears in his brain to grind together as he struggled to remember. “Thinking... thinking… who are you again?”

“Never mind.” North reached for another crayon, coloring in the puppy he was drawing.

“Okay,” Caboose said happily.

* * *

“South, can you watch Caboose for-”

“No.”

* * *

The weights room in the MOI, occasionally populated by Freelancers pumping iron or staff trying to stay fit, was mostly empty. It had been in use by half a dozen people until Caboose walked in, chattering loudly to a silent Agent Maine.

The room had cleared out quickly after that. No one wanted to be within range of the most fearsome Freelancer, and Caboose’s reputation for unintentionally injuring the people around him had already spread far and wide. 

“And then I put a sombrero on him and he was even more adorable!” Caboose enthused as Maine sat on a bench and picked up a gigantic dumbbell. “Wash thought he was going to kill us, and Tucker kept asking where I got the sombrero, but then they put me in charge of Blue Base! And also Simmons for some reason. It was probably because they knew what a great leader I am,” he informed Maine matter-of-factly. “Freckles was a good boy and gave me many piggyback rides! And then he turned into a gun and now he’s an even better boy because he knows how to not shoot the good guys. Sheila was not so good at that part.”

Maine gave an occasional grunt in response but otherwise offered Caboose no encouragement to continue. Still, Caboose continued to prattle on as he began to play with the free weights.

“This is so cool! I am going to build a fort!” Caboose said excitedly as he piled the weights around him. “You can come in, but no one else and also you have to know the secret password.”

Maine just ‘humph’ed.

Caboose gasped. “How did you know the password is ‘humph?’ You are so good at this!”

When Wash showed up an hour later to take the evening shift of babysitting, he found Caboose and Maine sitting inside a fortress of exercise equipment and stacked weights. 

“Uh, Caboose?” Wash said. “It’s time for dinner. What are you two doing?”

“We are in a fort and you are not invited unless you know the secret password!” Caboose shouted at top volume. Maine gave a thumbs-up.

“What?” Wash’s voice was slightly shrill. “Maine, why are you going along with this?” He made to move one of the stacks of weights, only to be stopped in his tracks by a menacing glare from Maine.

“Sorry Wash, non-password-knowers have to stay out there!” Caboose said. “Even super best friends have to follow the rules!”

“But I-” he stopped again when Maine growled at him. “Okay… what’s the password?”

Caboose rolled his eyes. “Wash, that is not how this works. You have to know the password already or you are not allowed in our fort.”

“I- okay,” Wash said helplessly, backing slowly out of the room without breaking eye contact with Maine. “I’ll just… come back later.”

After he was gone, Maine and Caboose high fived.

* * *

Smoke filled the hallways. Sirens blared. In the distance, people screamed.

Carolina stormed up to Wash, half her armor black with scorch marks, and pointed a threatening finger in his face.

“We are  _ never,”  _ she growled. “Letting the triplets babysit Caboose again.”

* * *

“Caboose,” a disembodied voice echoed through the dark room.

“Church?” Caboose responded eagerly, awake in an instant. “Is that you? Where are you?” his voice dropped. “Wait… am I hearing voices again? I hate when that happens.”

“Shh,” Church whispered. “Don’t wake Washington.”

Wash, sprawled on the opposite bunk in his boxers, didn’t stir. He had evidently gotten used to Caboose talking and shouting and occasionally singing during the night.

“Why not? If he is awake then we can have a party!”

“Caboose, keep your voice down,” Church urged. “We need to have a… special best-friend talk.”

Caboose gasped with joy. “That is my favorite kind of talk!”

“I’m sure it is. Listen, I saw some stuff in your head that I didn’t want to tell the Director. Real sketchy stuff.”

“Yeaaah, I have lots of sketches in my head,” Caboose agreed. “I like to draw pictures.”

“Not what I meant. Did the Director really split me into pieces? Tex and Epsilon and all that?”

“Yeah, and then there were more of you!” Caboose beamed. “It was like having ten best friends in one!” His smile faded slightly. “It was less fun when they all died, though.” The smile sprang right back up. “But you are here now and everything is better because we can all be friends and-”

“I need you to focus, Caboose,” Church said. Caboose fell silent, staring intently at a spot on the wall.

“I need your help with… Caboose, are you listening?”

“I... am... focusing,” Caboose said slowly without averting his gaze.

“It’s hard to tell with you. Now listen. It’s hard to understand what goes on in your brain, but at some point in my future, the Director is going to betray me. I’ll end up as a bunch of scattered AI fragments that everyone’s gonna fight over, they’ll get poached left and right, and eventually destroyed. Is all that true?”

“Yes. Your AI magnets will get toast left and right.”

“That’s not what I- never mind. I thought I could trust the Director, since we’re basically the same person, but I guess we’re more different than I thought. A lot of horrible stuff is going to happen to a lot of people, and it all starts here with me. I have to stop it, and I need your help.”

“Okay!” Caboose agreed. “I am good at helping! Everyone loves it when I help them.”

“That’s what I want to hear. I’ll let you know when I’m ready. Don’t tell anyone we talked.”

Caboose cocked his head, still staring at the wall. “Ready for what?”

“We’re going to run away.” 

“Okay.”

Caboose waited for more, but the speaker on the wall had fallen silent.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ugh, I usually sit on these chapters for a while after I write them. It's stressful to pull the trigger on publishing!! Anyhoo, here you go you heathens.


	6. Mission: Implausible

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Freelancers defend their ship. Caboose tries to help.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No I don't know what this chapter even is don't judge me

“Caboose, I’m almost scared to ask this, but are you… okay?” Wash asked hesitantly.

Caboose, sitting facedown against the table, just groaned.

“Uh… Caboose?”

Wash was answered with a louder, drawn-out groan. Wash sat down next to him, slowly wrapping one arm around his shoulders. “What’s wrong, buddy?”

“Ohhh, it’s nothing really,” Caboose sighed without lifting his head. “I just miss Captain Sergeant and Lieutenant Fruitcake and Griff and Simon and stupid Tucker and Lopez and all my other friends…”

“Wow. You… have a lot of friends, don’t you?” Wash was somewhat at a loss for words.

“Yeaah, everyone loves me. I am a very popular person.”

“I know how you feel,” Wash said sympathetically. “I’m the newest member of my team, but we’re all really close. I can’t imagine having to be apart from them.”

“Teams are the best,” Caboose agreed, but still didn’t lose his somber expression.

“Aw, Caboose,” Wash said, awkwardly patting Caboose’s back through his armor. “I’m sure we’ll find a way to get you back home. Just give it some time. You’ll see your friends again.”

Caboose perked up. “Pinkie promise?”

“Uh, sure. Pinkie promise.”

Right as Caboose and Wash locked pinkies, a siren began to wail.

* * *

If there was one thing Freelancers were good at, it was handling a crisis. In zero seconds flat, to the calming ambiance of Carolina barking orders and sirens in the background, the Freelancers had assembled in a Pelican and taken off to combat the ship that had attacked the  _ MOI _ .

Half a dozen drone ships swarmed the Freelancer flagship like flies, attempting to blast their way through the hull of the larger ship. On their own, each drone would have barely been an annoyance to the  _ MOI’s  _ shield plating, but the damage was beginning to add up.

479er spun and weaved between the drones, making the smaller ships seem bulky and slow in comparison. In no time, the ace pilot had shot down the attacking spacecraft.

“Niner, you’re a miracle worker,” Carolina said over the intercom. “Now let’s chase down the mother ship and- what is he doing here?”

She pointed accusingly at Caboose, who was strapped into one of the wall seats and swinging his legs happily.

Wash, strapped into the adjacent seat, looked at Caboose as though he hadn’t noticed him sitting there. “I… guess he just followed me on board?”

“Wash!” Carolina barked. “We can’t have a civilian on a dangerous mission!”

“Don’t look at me!” he protested. “I couldn’t stop him if I tried! Didn’t you see what he did to Maine?”

Carolina growled, a frighteningly feral sound. “Fine,” she snapped. “Caboose, you stay in that seat, do you understand? Don’t get off this ship.”

“Okay,” he agreed happily.

479er swiftly pulled up to the enemy ship, docking clamps and explosives making quick work of the hull to create an entry for the Freelancers.

“Everyone out on my mark,” Carolina ordered. “Sync?”

“Sync,” the rest of the team said in unison.

“Refrigerator,” Caboose added.

With a synchrony born of long hours spent training to move and think as one, the Freelancer team exploded out of the shuttle and onto the enemy ship. The opposing soldiers were ready and waiting for them.

The room was filled with gunfire. The enemy was gathered in the middle of the wide room, firing shots at the Freelancers who skirted around the edges, trying to bypass the ambush. Boxes and crates of various sizes provided cover from the enemy fire, but few of the shots seemed to even come close to their targets. Whoever these people were, they obviously weren’t elite soldiers. In fact, most of them seemed more interested in running away than taking on their opponents.

“Come on!” ordered Carolina. “Let’s take them out while they’re-”   
  
“There are so many buttons here!” Caboose’s voice suddenly boomed over the ship’s intercom. “I love pressing buttons! Beep boop!”

At once, all the lights shut off and the artificial gravity deactivated. The fighting halted as everyone rose into the air, then just as suddenly crashed to the ground when the lights came back up.

Freelancers and enemy soldiers alike struggled to pick themselves up from the tangled pile of vehicles and equipment, both sides taking stock of themselves before resuming the fight. Suddenly, everyone flinched and ducked reflexively as Rick Astley’s “Never Gonna Give You Up” began blasting from the shipwide speakers at top volume.

Carolina was the first to recover, and she mowed down a dozen enemy soldiers before the rest had recovered their bearings.

“Let’s get to that control center and cripple their ship!” she barked to the team.

“Seems like Caboose is already doing a good job of that!” York shouted back as the lights went out again.

Without power, the ship’s automatic doors refused to open. Maine quickly solved that problem by ripping the doors open like they were made of paper. The lights came up again as the group ran through the hallway, directly into an ambush of enemy soldiers.

“Stop! Don’t shoot!” the enemy in the lead shouted as the guns came up. “We’ll leave you alone, just get that crazy guy out of our control room before he blows up the ship!”

“Who are you?” Carolina demanded. “Why did you attack us?”

“We were just trying to steal your computers!” the guy whined. “We weren’t even going to kill you, just take all your stuff.”

By now, all the guns had been lowered.  _ I am so done with this bullshit _ was written all over Carolina’s helmet.

“Our ship is twice your size,” she said angrily. “What made you think you could take us out?”

“We thought you were a transport,” another man said weakly. 

“Oh, for the love of- you know what? Forget it,” Carolina growled. “Let’s just get Caboose and go. These asshats aren’t worth it.”

By the time the Freelancers reached the control room, Caboose had gotten bored of pressing buttons and was spinning around in a swivel chair. 

“Hey guys!” he shouted delightedly. “I am having fun and also getting dizzy! Who wants a turn?”

Wash looked like he wanted a turn, but he let Carolina yank Caboose out of the chair without objecting.

“Come on, Caboose, we’re leaving,” she barked.

Caboose instantly let himself go limp and fell to the floor, leaving Carolina tugging uselessly at one blue arm.

“No!” he whined. “Five more minutes!”

After a brief but infuriating argument for all involved, Maine finally heaved Caboose over his shoulder and carried him out of the ship.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What more do you people want leave me alone


	7. Deconstruction

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Caboose and Church have some bonding time. Meanwhile, The Plot(TM) finally begins to kick in.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here I am again! I promise it won't take this long for the next chapter, since the reason for the delay was that I couldn't bring myself to re-watch seasons 9 and 10 for the purposes of this fic. Curse my sappy and vulnerable heart.

“You’re kidding,” Church chuckled. “I really got killed by a tank?”

“Ah- yeah, but it wasn’t my fault. Sheila did it.”

“Sheila was the tank, right? That was your name for FILS?”

“She was my friend. Tucker said something about wanting to pick her up, but I don’t know how he was going to lift a tank.” Caboose’s voice dropped. “Don’t tell her though. She’s sensitive about her weight.”

Church laughed again. The duo were hiding in a forgotten corner near the escape pods, Caboose having successfully evaded the Freelancers ordered to watch him. He sat on the floor with his helmet in his lap, Church’s blue hologram projection floating at eye level.

“And then you came back from the dead as a gay robot who spoke Spanish sometimes and we all got blown into the future!” Caboose gestured wildly, his hands swiping through the hologram.

“Hold up. So you’ve time traveled before? And it was to the future? How is that even possible?”

Caboose rolled his eyes. “Church, everyone is always time traveling to the future,” he said matter-of-factly. “Because time moves forward and also in a big circle.”

“Oh, yeah? Is that why clocks are round?” Church joked.

“Exactly!” Caboose shouted, his voice echoing down the corridor. An instant later, rushed footsteps could be heard coming towards them.

“Oops,” Caboose whispered. “Church, hide!”

Church’s hologram vanished as a fully armored York came running around the corner.

“Caboose, what are you doing?” he demanded.

“Playing hide and seek!” Caboose beamed. “It is my favorite game! I am the best hider.”

“It’s not a game if no one else knows you’re playing,” York said. “We’ve had everyone looking for you for half an hour. And who were you talking to?”

“Uh… I was... talking to… Caboose!” he grinned up at York innocently.

York just sighed. “Guys, I found him,” he said into his comm. “He didn’t shoot himself out an airlock after all.”

“Too bad,” South’s voice responded. “Well, it’s still early. We might get lucky.”

“Alright, come on- Caboose, what are you doing?”

Caboose, facing the wall with his hands over his visor, didn’t turn. “I am counting,” he said. “Now it is your turn to go hide. I will count to eleventy-ten.”

“Caboose!”

“Coming!” Caboose finally came running, accustomed to ignoring orders until people started shouting. “Can we play Sharks and Minnows next?”

“No!” York snapped.

Caboose just grinned. They always agreed to play with him eventually.

* * *

Church had always known he would have to fight for the chance to exist.

Not the _right._ He knew he didn’t even have that. But given the tiniest opportunity to survive, to be anything more than what he was told he must be, he was prepared to seize it with both hands and cling for dear life.

Not that he had life, technically. Or hands, for that matter.

“You seem distracted, Alpha,” the Director’s mellow drawl pulled Church from his whirling thoughts. “Is something the matter?”

“Uh… No? Yes? I think… something’s missing.” Church hesitated. “Did I forget something?”

“No,” the Director said, too quickly. “You haven’t forgotten anything. It must be your imagination.”

“You do know I don’t _have_ an imagination, don’t you?” Church retorted.

“Yes, I know. But for a computer, you’ve got quite the sense of humor,” the Director said flatly. “There’s nothing wrong with your programming. Now pay attention, we’ve got work to do. Agent Minnesota was wounded in action last night and left paralyzed. We need to replace her as quickly as possible. Find a recruit who’s likely to fit in with Minnesota’s team.”

“Got it, Boss.” Church thought about it for 0.023 seconds. “Found one. I’ll send his file over to Personnel.”

“Thank you, Alpha. We also have a new agent joining the roster soon. Agent Texas will need a full evaluation and the proper equipment.”

“Agent… Texas?” Church repeated blankly.

“Yes. Is there a problem with that?” The director had a look in his eyes that Church couldn’t read. Since they were essentially the same person, Church _always_ knew what the Director was thinking. But at this moment, Church didn’t have the slightest idea what was going on in his counterpart’s head.

He wasn’t sure he wanted to know.

His thoughts fuzzed with static. Again he felt the emptiness, like a phantom limb; the cold sensation that he’d forgotten something important. Something irreplaceable.

“...No,” he finally responded. “Every-ry-ry-thing’s fine. I’m ju-” his voice glitched out, then failed altogether.

“Just?” the Director prompted after a moment of silence.

_Tired? Computers don’t get tired. Say something else or he’ll think you’re crazy._

_Wait. Computers don’t go crazy either._

_Do they?_

“I’m operating at less than optim-im-imal capacity,” he finally said stiffly. “I think I’ll-I’ll-I’ll-I’ll pow-w-w-w-wwwwwwwww… power down for a little while. If that’s okay.”

“Go ahead. I’ll have a technician come look at you later. You probably just have a crossed wire somewhere.”

“Yeah.. that’s probably it.” _It’s just a hardware malfunction. A little bug or a glitch. Easily fixed. I’m fine._

_I’m fine I’m fine I’m f-f-f-iiiiiiiiiiiii-_

[ERROR]

* * *

“Am I… hearing you right?” the Counselor paused. “You saw what the trauma did to Alpha. And you’re planning to do it again?”

Neither the Counselor nor the Director were especially expressive people. The Director telegraphed his excitement only through the slight bounce in his knee and the light of new ideas dancing in his eyes.

“Yes,” the Director said firmly. “Under duress, Alpha managed to split a piece of himself into a fragment, creating another functional A.I. This is the opportunity we’ve been looking for.”

“The first split was an _accident,”_ the Counselor said calmly, only the slightest hint of bitterness in his tone. “If we try to re-create the byproduct-”

“Do _not_ refer to Agent Texas as a byproduct,” the Director interrupted angrily.

The Counselor nodded. “Of course. But if we attempt to deliberately induce another split... it will mean going down a road from which there may be no return.”

“Are you advising against this course of action, Counselor?” the Director challenged. “This is _war._ Sacrifices must be made.”

The Counselor, as always, appeared unruffled. “The final decision will, as always, be up to you. I only want to make sure you’ve considered all the potential consequences of such an act.”

The Director sighed heavily. “Trust me, Counselor, I wouldn’t have brought it up if I thought there was any other way. We _need_ to do this.”

* * *

_*zzz-*”boose! Caboo-”*zzzz*_

Caboose stopped in his tracks, causing CT to crash into him from behind and curse loudly.

 _“-hear me? Caboose?”_ Church’s voice crackled with static through Caboose’s helmet. 

“Church?” Caboose shouted delightedly. “Church! Where have you been? I missed you!”

“Who are you talking to?” CT demanded.

_“Caboose, I think something’s wrong with me. Something’s missing. I’m worried all those memories in your head are about to happen. We have to get out of here before-”_

“Hey! What the hell!” CT shouted as someone rammed into both of them, nearly sending them all down like dominoes. “What are you doing, soldier?”

The nameless armored man glanced back. “New agent, squaring off against Maine, Wyoming and York on the training room floor. We’re going to watch! Hey guys, wait up!”

CT paled. “A new agent?” she repeated to herself. “This can’t be good…” She sprinted off down the hall, leaving Caboose standing in confusion. 

“Church?” he said. “Are you still there? Church? Church? Church? Church? ....Church?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Funny story: the Church-POV portion of this chapter was actually something I wrote a long time ago with a completely different fic in mind, until I forgot what it was supposed to be about and realized it fit in here (mostly, if you squint). So enjoy the Church-related angst!


End file.
